


Killer Queen or Freddie with a phaser. More Queen*Star Trek crossover

by Toinette93



Series: Queen*Star Trek crossovers [2]
Category: Queen (Band), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Brian in the astrophysics labs, Freddie is in communications, Gen, He is also a BAMF, John in Engineering, John is mostly immune to telepathy in this, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mission Fic, Queen as officers on the Enterprise, Rescue Missions, Roger is a pilot and a bridge medic, Telepathy, The red-shirts live, Works as a standalone, landing party, queen in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23524645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toinette93/pseuds/Toinette93
Summary: Freddie was shooting. He was not even all that sure what or whom he was shooting at exactly but he was being shot at – they were being  shot at – and so he was returning fire.--Kirk had disappeared on a landing party. With Spock incapacitated and McCoy busy keeping him alive, it's up to four young officers from gamma shift who often enchant the rec-room with their rock concert to go on a rescue mission.
Series: Queen*Star Trek crossovers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692823
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people,  
> So the previous fic about Queen being on the Enterprise was supposed to be a one-time fic. Then nastyhobbit suggested I write a sequel. This is mostly a standalone in the same universe, but still. I got the first scene, when I was stuck on a train in a snowstorm a while back (no snowstorms now. Or trains for that matter), and decided to write this thing. It took me forever, and I don't know how good it is (crossovers are hard, people) but there it is nonetheless, finished and all. So enjoy ! And don't hesitate to tell me in the comments what you thought.  
> Toinette, out.

Freddie was shooting. He was not even all that sure what or whom he was shooting at exactly but he was being shot at – they were being shot at – and so he was returning fire. He was covering Brian who was crawling towards a seemingly barren piece of the cliff they were at the bottom of. According to the data the scientist had put together, that barren piece of cliff was actually the opening mechanism of a door. The door through which captain Kirk had disappeared few hours ago. He was still unaccounted for.

The fact that Freddie was shooting meant that no one was keeping contact with the ship. Because he was the communications officer on this mission. And everyone else was busy.  
John was holding a large handle-like stone, his knuckles going white, his eyes glazed. Doing the same thing that had almost killed the ship's first officer a few hours prior. McCoy was treating the Vulcan on the ship right that moment. But it was the only way to open the door. John's total lack of any telepathic talent and very unusually good natural shielding meant he should be all right. Still, they were not taking any more chances than they had to. And so Roger, medical scanner in hand was keeping an eye on him.

Another shot aimed at Freddie nearly cut Brian's head off. It had ricoched off a rock. No that would not do. They needed that head and the efficient brain inside. Besides Freddie actually liked the guy. He shot again in the general direction of the attack. He heard a scream of pain on the other side. Surprised to not have missed, he almost stayed out of cover too long. Roger got him to duck in time.

"Get your bloody head down, Fred" hissed the blonde, getting a shot of his own at their enemies before going back to his charge. "Who even are these people!"

"No idea, dear." Freddie answered, keeping on shooting "But they obviously do not want us to stay around and chat about it"

That was the real question. There was supposed to be sentient life on that planet all right but not nearly advanced enough for phaser fire, by a long shot, centuries at least. Still it was by now a moot point. Cause they were being shot at by phasers. And they were outnumbered. Were it not for the very narrow entrance to the cliff circle they were in, they would have lost this battle a long time ago.

"How is John doing?" asked Freddie.

"Fine, I think." was Roger's careful answer. "Some indications of a building headache and tension but nothing like the readings McCoy showed me from what happened to Spock. How far off is Brian?"  
  


"Almost there. And he seems to be unharmed. Even still has all of his hair."  
  


Brian finished his long bout of crawling and finally got to the right place. He put his long hand on the stone and a panel appeared. He pushed a button and the cliff moved, opening up before him and closing them off from their enemies. Brian was drawn inside and barely had the time to throw the prepared piece of metal in the mechanism to stop it from closing completely.  
The others ran to his position, John being all but held up by the other two. They had very little time. The shooting would start again. And so, they got inside. The piece of metal did not hold long. The door closed behind them. Freddie just had the time to send their status to the ship before the door closed again for good.


	2. Chapter 2

_A few hours earlier_

The Enterprise had arrived in orbit around planet Sigma 12, and the initial sensor sweep had registered some unusual geological formations in a part of the planet that was far enough away from the population centers that they could beam down to investigate without risking a breach of the prime directive. It had looked like a straightforward enough mission.

  
Had he not been deep in medical research, desperately trying to understand what exactly had happened to Mr Spock while most of the bio-bed alarms in sickbay were blaring, warning of impending organ failure in the Vulcan first officer, McCoy would probably have argued that the apparent simplicity of a mission should be a sign of danger in and of itself by now. Mr Spock, had he been conscious, and not currently busy dying, would have pointed out the sheer illogic of the CMO's purported conclusion, and accused him of wanton emotionalism and paranoia.

  
That argument did not happen however, because the mission had very much gone to hell. Kirk, Spock and McCoy had been the members of the landing party. They had beamed down in a small clearing in a forest half a mile from the location of the interesting – or fascinating as Spock had dubbed it – geological formation. They had hiked towards it, walking uphill enjoying the warmth of a summer day and the beauty of unspoiled nature.

Spock had seemed eager, walking in front of the group, registering readings with zeal.

"Why, Jim, I believe our resident Vulcan is enjoying himself. Isn't joy an emotion? Not that I

wouldn't be happy for him."

"Well, Bones I think you might be right."

"I assure you gentlemen I am merely pursuing scientific knowledge. The plant life here is incredibly varied"

"Of course, Spock, I am sure this is perfectly logical."

"Thank you, doctor" Spock said raising an eyebrow.

"Gentlemen, I believe we have reached our destination" said the captain, showing the cliffs in front of them.

They walked into the cliff circle through the only available route and Spock started to work. McCoy was a bit tired and sat down next to the Vulcan for a little while, while Kirk went to explore further away, largely ignoring the doctor's advice to "not wander off too far alone, Jim". Spock's tricorder was recording everything.

"Ouch" said the captain.

"Jim?"

"Captain, are you all right?" Added Spock, raising his head for a second from the rock formation he had been looking at with rapt attention.

"I'm fine" said Kirk, placating hand in the air. "Just bumped my head into something that was not there 5 seconds ago" He looked up at the offending piece of rock. "Is that a panel there?" he noticed. He was bit dazed from the small bump on his head, and his hand was already on the thing to lift himself back up.

In the next five seconds, in front of McCoy's horrified eyes, everything went wrong. The cliff side opened, and the captain yelling in surprise was dragged inside by an invisible force. Before the doctor could run to Jim's aid, Spock screamed.

"Spock!" The captain yelled.

McCoy turned around. The first officer was seemingly attached to the piece of rock he had been studying, eyes rolling in their sockets, bleeding from his nose, ears and mouth. McCoy tried to pry him out from the rock. He strained without success for a few seconds, then suddenly there wasn't any resistance any more, and the Vulcan went limp in his arms. They both fell, the doctor just managing to prevent Spock's head from crashing on the ground. He got his medical scanner out and started running it on Spock.

"Doctor, the captain…"

The ship's surgeon lifted his eyes from his patient and looked towards the cliff. He saw it closing up fast the captain unable to get out. He knew right there and then he was too late to stop it. The cliff closed. He pursed his lips and went back to looking at his scanner. Spock tried to get up. McCoy stopped him.

"I've got to get you back to the ship right now, Spock"

"We can't…"

The Vulcan did not finish his sentence, he had lost consciousness. The doctor got a hypo in his neck and still holding the Vulcan got his communicator out.

"I'm sorry Spock" he said to his unconscious friend. "I really don't like leaving Jim behind. But he seemed unharmed and we'll get help back to him. You need medical care right now." He opened his communicator.

"McCoy to Enterprise. Two to beam up, emergency medical team to the transporter room."


	3. Chapter 3

McCoy felt the usual tingle of the transporter almost immediately. Kyle was manning the transporter room once he got there.

“Medical team on its way, doctor.” he said in a tight voice, upon noticing the state the first officer was in.

McCoy did not answer, concentrating on his patient.  Spock suddenly opened his eyes, and shot upwards. The medical team was entering the room at the same moment. McCoy gestured them to wait. With his left arm, he supported the Vulcan first officer, helping him stay seated, while with the right hand he kept on holding his scanner. Spock’s breathing was labored.

“You’re on the ship Spock, we’re getting you to sickbay, you’re alright.”

“Doctor, the captain!”

“We’ll get a rescue mission, don’t you worry. We’ll get him back. But we need to get you to sick bay.” - the data the CMO was getting on his scanner were making this more and more urgent by the minute. McCoy motioned to the medical team who brought the stretcher nearer, and with the help of nurse Chapel, he got the first officer on it.

“The attack.” wheezed Spock. “It’s telepathic in nature. We need someone with good shielding...”

The scanner was telling McCoy that speaking was a bad idea. And knowing the stubborn Vulcan would not stop if he were asked, the doctor sedated him.

Once they were in sickbay, there was a flurry of activity. Spock needed help to breathe.

“Chapel, get me the respirator.”

The Vulcan was soon hooked up to a few machines. Once the vitals had stopped their downward plunge, stabilizing still dangerously low, the activity slowed down.

“Prepare a brain scan. And let’s focus on his telepathy.” ordered the doctor.

He then commed Scotty, who was in command, ans had been told there would be a report in the next five minutes. The engineer told him he had been trying to contact the captain without success. McCoy pushed his worry aside for the moment and told the scotsman what had happened and what Spock had said. As he was explaining that, Chapel came in:

“The results from the scan, doctor.”

“Scotty, I have to look at this I’ll call you back. McCoy out.”

“It does not look good, doctor.”

“Let me have a look”.

The scan showed that the attack, or whatever it was had touched on all of the autonomic function of the brain. They were looking at the possibility of organs failing in the next couple of hours if they could not find a cure. The pattern was chaotic enough to be problematic even on life support. And the telepathic centers of the brain were showing spikes of activities McCoy had no idea how to make sense of. The CMO found himself wishing for the present of Mbenga who had taken research leave.

“Keep on monitoring him. I’ll try and look in the few information we do have on Vulcans and telepathic attacks to try and see if we’ve got anything on that. Comm me if anything gets worse. I have to call Scotty first.”

Chapel nodded and left to do her duty. She had an air of determination on her face, and the doctor knew that she was maybe even more stubborn that he was to keep their patient alive. She was one hell of a god nurse. McCoy passed a hand on his face. Why did he have to be friends with such reckless idiots. And this time if wasn’t even really their faults. Oh, Jim, he thought. That he had had to abandon him weighed heavily on him, it had been barely fifteen minutes, and the landing party needed to get prepared, but McCoy was a physician. He knew how much could happen to a human body in fifteen minutes. He wished he could go on the rescue mission. But Spock needed him more. He had to understand what was happening to him.

“McCoy to bridge. Scotty?”

“The landing party’s getting ready, doctor. We’ll get the captain back.”

The doctor and the engineer reviewed the precautions that had to be taken, and then McCoy went back to his labs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people !   
> Or should I say, Toinette to the void? Is anyone, at all, reading this? Oh, well, I'm enjoying it at least.   
> If anyone is reading it, hope you had fun. Next chapter, we'll see what happened to Kirk.   
> Live long and prosper, folks. And take care of yourselves.   
> Toinette out.


	4. Chapter 4

“Spock” Kirk shouted, seeing his first officer and friend fall to the ground. He was being pulled inside the cliff, even as he was trying to run toward the Vulcan and the cliff face started to close on him. He tried to find a way out pushing at the rocks. He needed to get back to his ship. His first officer was hurt and his crew may be in danger. The pushing did nothing except strain his muscles. In the dark, he did not see what he was doing. He got his communicator out, hoping to reach the ship. It did not work. Kirk fought down the urge to throw it away, and put it back calmly on his belt, next to his phaser. His temper could wait. He needed to find a way to get out of there.

Spock had been carrying the tricorder, and without it the captain did not have a light source. He started blindly following the cave walls with his hands, looking for a panel like the one that had sent him there. If that did not work, he would just have to wait here, he thought. A rescue mission would be sent and get him out. This soon proved not to be a viable option. The temperature in the room was going up. And as Kirk started thinking this would soon be a real problem if it kept on going much longer, flames starting going up behind him, getting closer, but providing some light. A door was opening. But on the opposite side of the room from where the exit was. There was no other way. Kirk ran. There was smoke and he could not see anything. He tripped and almost fell, scratching his shoulder. His shirt tore and a trickle of blood fell down his torso. He got to the door, right as it was closing. Something exploded behind him. He fell through the door and it closed behind him.

* * *

“Doctor!”

“Yes nurse Chapel?” answered McCoy, bent over the last test results from the medical scans on the Vulcan first officer.

“The readings are changing again. He seems to be running a fever now, and he is bleeding again.”

“Dammit.” said the doctor, hurrying to his patient’s bedside, hypo already in hand as the biobed alarms started blaring. “And cut that damn noise for now.”

* * *

Kirk got back on his feet. He got a cursory look at the cut on his arm. It looked rather big, but the bleeding was already trickling down. No cause for concerns. He had more pressing ones anyhow. There seemed to be a bit more light in this part of the caves, although where it came from, Kirk did not know. Not sure if the bad surprises from the other side of the door were quite over with, the captain decided to move. He proceeded carefully, phaser in one hand, the other staying on the wall, looking for traps.

He was not disappointed. A few meters on his way in, he suddenly heard a sound. He had enough sense to duck. Barely in time. The blade going off the wall took a few hair off his head. He also heard something that sounded like music, cheap and distorted, although, Kirk supposed, maybe whoever had programed this sequence could also just have had really bad taste in music. Something that he supposed was a holographic projection started playing in front of his eyes, badly distorted too, but still confusing enough that he almost did not see the second blade. He jumped just in time, and quite high too.

Alright, now it was quite clear this was some sort of death trap, and he was not going to stay in there, doing nothing, waiting to get chopped off by whatever trap had been set for him. These blades must have some mechanism, some maintenance shaft maybe. If he could just get in there. He got his phaser out, and aimed it and the small opening in the wall from which the first blade had come, widening it. There was something that looked a lot like a maintenance shaft there. With light, and hopefully without death traps. He walked in, trying to move silently. Once he was a little way away from the corridor in the maintenance shaft, he tried using his communicator again. There was a lot of static, they were far underground but if he could adjust… He might just be able to signal the ship. Maybe not enough to get vocal communications but he might just be able to send his coordinates.

He was concentrating on that delicate work, and the team of aliens attacking him took him by surprise, just as he was getting a signal. A phaser beam destroyed his communicator away, burning part of his hand in the process. The next one stunned him and he fell to the ground.

* * *

McCoy was helping a slowly waking up Spock to sit up, when he took out his hand in pain, and fell unconscious again. McCoy got a look at the reading before they plunged down, needing some intensive care again. There had been a very strange peak in brain activity, and one McCoy thought he should find an explanation for. But right now, he was busy enough keeping that damn Vulcan heart beating to think much about it.

Uhura commed sickbay, letting them know they had had a brief fix on the captain, before loosing him again.

“See you green blooded Vulcan, Jim’s alive and he needs help. You stay that way and get stable so I can do my job when he gets back”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey !  
> A bit of a short one this morning, but we're back to the Queen boys. Hope you enjoy.   
> Have a nice day and stay safe.   
> Toinette out.

Freddie and Brian walked into the cave first, followed by John and Roger. They noticed scorch marks on the walls and the floor. They all looked to Brian, who was looking at the tricorder.

“About half an hour ago. And there are no signs of a body, not even burnt to a crisp. So I don’t think he died there. Do you have any life signs Rog?”

“None so far, but there’s a lot of interference.”

“Look!” said Freddie who had be scouting out ahead.

On the wall there was a section that had not been touched by the flames at all.

John walked towards it almost mindlessly and put a hand on the middle of the section. A door opened.

“Get inside” said the engineer, pushing the others forward. They went through, and rejoined the corridor

They started walking, it was dark, thought Brian who was opening the way, his flashlight did not seem to be enough to dissipate the almost palpable darkness that was surrounding the place. He started hearing music, the sound eerie and piercing, at the limit of what would have hurt his ears. Freddie and Roger did not seem to be noticing anything. He turned back to John, who seemed to have trouble walking in a straight line. When suddenly, the bass player screamed:

“Brian, watch out!”. And fired his phaser.

Brian ducked. The phaser fire passed next to his left shoulder, and went to destroy a round blade that had gone out of the wall.

“Fuck, that was close!” says the guitarist, seeing a few pieces of metal falling on his left shoulder.

“What was, dear?” asks Freddie, sounding concerned.

And Roger puts a hand on John’s arm.

“Deacy, you ok? What did you shoot at?”

“There was a blade, aiming for Brian, did you not see it?”

“No, there was nothing.”

“Fred, there was a blade that would probably have cut my head off of my shoulders if John had not shot it out of the way.”

“There was … nothing, Brian.”

“Nothing, are you kidding me? This is hardly the time and the place to make jokes, Fred.”

“I’m not...”

“Guys...” interrupted Roger.

It stopped the two officers.

“Maybe we should not make too much noise.” added John, whispering.

“John, how did you know this thing was going to jump out of the wall, I did not see it coming and I was closer than you.”

“I… I don’t know. I just knew something bad was going to happen.”

“What wall?” Asked Roger. “The right one, with the big hole in it?”

“I don’t see any hole.” said John.

“All right, my dears, I see the hole. I’m also the senior officer here. And I think we should try and understand what each person is seeing before going any further.”

“Yeah, Freddie I think you’re right.”

They told each other what they had seen. Brian and John had seen the blade, John had felt it coming. Freddie and Roger did not see the blade but saw a hole in the wall that the other two could have sworn was not there. It turned out the tricorders were of no use. They seemed to be very much confused by the whole place.

“That hole looks like it was made by phaser fire.” noted Roger, having examined it.

“It could be the captain.” Freddie said.

“Are we sure this hole even exists.” protested Brian.

John who started to think arguing instead of acting was bound to get dangerous after a while just walked to where Roger was looking at the invisible hole in the wall and closed his eyes. He put his hand on the wall. Wait, through the wall. There was a hole all right.

“Well, there is a hole, it would seem. Is it big enough to walk through?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go” he said and passed through the hole in the wall, followed by the others.


	6. Chapter 6

Once the door was behind them, John started to feel his head clear a bit. He could see what was around him a lot more clearly, and recognized by contrast the state of blur he had been in for the past half hour. Brian had a moment of confusion, looking straight in front of him, without seeing anything. “Brian?” asked Roger. “I’m alright” he answered, and a few second later, he was. John found, on the wall, what was clearly signs of struggle. And a piece of golden uniform. The captain had been there and he had been captured. They had no doubts left now, whoever was there was hostile.

Brian looked at his tricorder, searching again for human life signs, beside their own. And… yes there was one. Faint, but definitely human. Whether it was faint because the captain was far away, because there was some sort of interference of if he was injured, Brian did not know. All the more reason to act fast. He showed the readings to John and Roger, who nodded in agreement. Bearing 3.2 mark 4, it said, but there was no notion of distance. They’d have to be careful not to get lost in all those corridors.

Roger went to rejoin Freddie, who was keeping guard, to give him the information they had just obtained. But when he got there, Freddie put a finger on his mouth and motioned his crew-mate to hide behind him. They exchanged tricorders: they both had information on there. And what Freddie had noticed were non human life signs. Approaching. Ready to surround them. Thankfully for the starfleet officers, they did not seem to be all that well coordinated. Seemed like they had not detected them yet. One of the three teams that was moving towards them was a little bit faster than the others, and would get there a few minutes earlier. They might just… Roger nodded. He got Freddie’s point but they’d have to be quiet and fast, the others were close, it was a miracle they had not yet been spoted.

The drummer walked back to the other two, and whispered to them what they should do. They all nodded, and got into position, two by two, crouched behind the wall, ready to jump, phasers on high stunt. Not exactly a diplomatic approach, but they had been shot at, Brian had maybe been almost beheaded – and he had frankly had enough of attempts made against his hair – and their captain was missing, most likely injured. They were past diplomacy at that point.

A group of three aliens walked through the corridor. They were a bit smaller that humans, although humanoid, and wearing tight clothing that only left their eyes visible. They did not seem to have hair. The universal translator was doing its work.

“Rokan, can you feel it? There seem to be people alive here again.”

And Roger, Brian and Freddie felt something tugging at their consciousness.

“Well, if they are we’ll take them as we took the other. They have no right to come play the sacred games. And cheating. They should be punished. Death is not...”

Freddie did not let them finish. He motioned with his phaser, and they all started to fire. Two of the aliens collapsed to the floor instantly. The third one did after an instant, but he had time to scream. And they heard footsteps behind them.

“Run”, said Roger.

And they ran, along the corridor. Their size seemed to give them a bit of an advantage, they ran and ran until they were out of breath, and they managed to loose their pursuers. They hid in what looked a lot like a supply closet. Brian who was still charged with tracking the captain’s position had more precise information now. He knew where the captain was, in a room, not 200 meters from where they were. And as he showed the results to Roger, the medic confirmed something the scientist had feared. The readings seemed to indicate the captain was unconscious.

***

John turned towards the others, trying not to elbow them in the ribs. The supply closet was quite small and Roger grunted something about pointy-elbowed people from Leicestershire. John had found something. A small computer access panel, probably meant to signal when a broom was broken or some such. At least that’s what John assumed, given what had appeared on the screen when he had activated it. But he wasn’t an engineer for nothing. And soon he had upgraded from broom and cleaning products inventories to security systems.

“I know a bit more about the place where the captain is held.” he told the other. “It’s a room, 200 meters from here as the tricorder is telling us. I don’t think it’s a holding cell as such, more of an interrogation room. He won’t be there for long. Good news is, it’s locked by an electronic lock.”

“How is that good news exactly?” asked Roger.

John grinned a smug grin.

“You can open it from here dear?” guessed Freddie, now smiling too

John nodded.

“Deacy, you’re a genius” huffed Brian.

John nodded again.

“How long before you open it and how long can it stay open?”

“Five minutes” answered John, who was back to looking at the panel, and had elbowed Roger again on the way. “And as long as no one closes it.”

“Can you make it harder to close?” asked Roger

“I can try.”

“Do it.” said Freddie.

They waited.

Brian was starting to feel really cramped in this enclosed space, but soon John spoke again.

“Ready when you are.” He said.

“Alright, lovies.” started Freddie “We won’t have much time. We get in, we grab the captain, we get out. Roger, you take care of him. Brian, you help cary him if needed. John, you keep that door open. I’ll fire on anyone that try to get through it. Everyone ready.”

They all nodded in acquiescence.

“All right, John. Three, two, one, let’s go.”


	7. Chapter 7

They hurried along the corridor. There was a guard at the door, who was distracted by the noise of the door he was supposed to be guarding opening behind it. Before he had time to raise the alarm, Freddie had stunned him efficiently. John, eyes on his tricorder, motioned the others to wait for a few seconds, even as the door was opening, as he fiddled with a panel on the wall.

“You can get in.” He said. “There was an alarm. Not anymore.”

“Good”, commented Freddie, and he stayed with John hidden behind the now closed door. Brian and Roger got inside. The room was very clean, and extremely tidy, more than anything, it looked like a sick bay. But there were no medical instruments to be seen anywhere.

Brian looked around, the place made him feel quite uneasy. Roger rapidly located the captain. He was on strapped on a bed, in the middle of the room. There was a wound on his arm, that appeared not to have been taken care of in any way, although it was quite deep, and there were markings that looked like fists and lashes on his face and torso. At first glance at least, his legs seemed to be unharmed. Roger walked to the bed.

“Fuck.” Then motioning to his friend: “Brian, can you get those restrains off?”

The guitarist complied and started to unclasp the restrains.

Roger ran his medical tricorder on the captain, while also trying to wake him up.

“Captain. Captain, can you hear me. If you ca hear me squeeze my hand.”

A light squeeze answered his words, and Kirk opened his eyes. They appeared unfocused for a while, then the grasp on Roger’s arm got firmer and the captain started to sit himself up. Brian had finished cutting the restraints, and Kirk managed to get up, with a steadying hand from Roger. He visibly winced in pain as he sat up.

“Ensign Taylor, Lieutenant May.” he said. “What’s your status”.

Roger was still busy running his tricorder, which was mostly telling him that whatever was wrong with the captain required medical intervention that was beyond what he knew how to do as a field medic. Kirk appeared to have been beaten, possibly drugged, and Roger could not tell if he would be able to walk, even less run for as long as they would probably have to.

Brian answered the question.

“We’re here to get you out, sir. Lieutenant Bulsara and Ensign Deacon are at the door. Deacon is keeping the door open, but we don’t have very long. We need to get out fast.”

Ignoring Roger’s hand on his arm, the captain tried to get up. The important word being try. He fell right back down, unconscious. Roger and Brian just managed to stop him from hitting his head on the bed frame. “Shit” said Roger. He bloody knew that was going to happen. He leaned over the captain’s prone form on the floor. Freddie went back into the room, and took in the sight.

“We need to get out, now.” He said. “Deacs has detected guards coming our way. We’d better avoid getting noticed. We’re going to have to run. Can you get the captain in shape?”

Freddie looked stressed out. He was officially in command, his first command, even if the relationship with his bandmates makes the situation less strictly hierarchic than it would normally be on a starship, and he did not want his first command to end with the death of their captain. Or with his own, come to think of it.

Roger looked at his tricorder again. He could inject the captain with a stimulant that’s what his data seemed to suggest, but he was not sure about it. He was a drummer, not a doctor, for fuck’s sake. He had good field medic training, but not enough to be sure of his decision. He did not want to kill his captain through overdose.

“I could give him a stimulant, but...” he hesitated.

John’s voice was heard in the room. “We really need to hurry.” he said.

“Roger, do it.” said Freddie.

Brian who was crouched on the other side of the captain from Roger, ready to help him up gave him a little nod. Roger prepared his hypo and pushed it into his senior officer’s neck.

Kirk opened his eyes again, and without ceremony, Brian and Roger hoistered him up, and helped him walk. They got out of the room, and started to run. John lead the way.


	8. Chapter 8

“Do we know where we’re going?” Asked Roger, already out of breath. Supporting the captain in a duo with Brian had not been their best idea with the size difference but they could not change now, they needed to keep on going.

Freddie had had to stun one security guard who was coming their way, and was now closing the march, eying warily the corridors they were passing.

“Yes, we do.” said John, eyes fixed on his tricorder on which he had downloaded a partial map of the subterranean complex. “We need somewhere to regroup and I know just the place.”

“We’ll need…to go to the end of the game...we refused to play… to get out of here.” Kirk managed to say, although he had trouble catching his breath.

“Then we’re going in the right direction, sir.” Said John. The captain nodded. “Good” he said. They kept on running.

They finally arrived at a part of the complex where the smooth walls gave way to natural caves again. John pointed to a small fissure in the wall. It was barely big enough for them to crawl through. But John showed the reading on his tricorder that said there was a larger cavity behind large enough for them to regroup in. The captain fell down on the floor the moment Brian and Roger stopped carrying him. His head was lolling on his shoulder. He was barely conscious again.

Roger kneeled down next to him, checking his medical scanner. Brian walked to Freddie.

“Have we been followed?” he asked.

“I don’t think so. There are bound to be patrol and they will detect us if we don’t get in there fast.” Then turning to the captain: “Captain do you think you can go through there?” he asked. In the meantime, John was starting to get through the hole himself, checking it was safe.

“We’re going to need to push him through, Fred.” answered Roger in lieu of the captain who just raised his head in the direction of the voice.

“I’m through” said John.

With John pulling and Brian and Roger pushing while Freddie kept an eye on the corridor, they managed to get the captain in the cave, before getting them all themselves.

Once inside, they finally had some time to think, without having to run every second. Freddie hid the crevasse in the wall through which they had crawled. He still eyed it warily. Of course, it was a good place to hide, but if their enemies knew it existed or otherwise detected it, it could very quickly become a deadly trap. And John, who was standing next to Freddie, fidgeting, clearly knew it. The lieutenant suddenly remembered John was not particularly fond of tiny enclosed space. Still looking at the now well hidden crevice, he put a comforting had on his friend’s shoulder.

Meanwhile, Roger was checking the captain again, while Brian looked anxiously over his shoulder.

“How bad it it?” asked Brian.

“I’m not sure. I’d really need to contact the doctor at this point. I think I know what to do but… there’s a risk, and I’m not a bloody doctor.”

“Do communicators work?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll ask Fred what he thinks about using them. He is the communications officer after all.”

Roger nodded and went back to checking vitals. The captain was still unresponsive.

Freddie let Brian take over guarding the door and started working on his communicator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it's not Star Trek if people don't spend some time running in corridors. Hope you like it!  
> Take care,  
> Toinette out


	9. Chapter 9

“Mr Scott, I think I’ve got a fix on the landing’s party position. I have compensated for part of the disturbance and I think I can get a map of the cave complex they seem to be in, sir.”

“Well done, Chekov, laddie. Send it to my Padd, I’ll bring it to McCoy and see how Mr Spock is doing. Sulu, you’ve got the bridge.”

“Aye sir.”

***

Nurse Chapel, slightly out of breath, entered the room in Sickbay where McCoy was busy trying to keep Spock alive. A look at the readings told the nurse that the Vulcan was seemingly stable, though not in the best of conditions to be stabilizing at.

“Doctor, I’ve got the bridge on the com channel. Uhura’s on the line, she’s in contact with the landing party, and they need urgent medical advice.”

She saw the moment of anxiety on her boss’s face before he controlled it, his usual grumpy professional face falling into place. Christine caught herself thinking, not for the first time, that the CMO could control his feelings far better that he would let on. He nodded.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Spock’s stable for now, but it might get worse unexpectedly, call me if anything happens.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Chapel, keeping an eye on the Vulcan, started an inventory of the medicine cabinet. They had used so much lately, it would be a real problem should they discover mid-emergency that they had tracked something incorrectly and that some vitally important drug was missing. She could not do much for Spock at that point and the monotonous work at least kept her from needlessly worrying about her patient. McCoy had walked to his office, without closing the door, and she could hear part of the conversation he was having on the com.

“Ok, Ensign, give me your tricorder readings on the captain.”

So it was the captain who was injured. Predictable, really, but at least it meant he was alive, and most likely that the rescue team had managed to free him. She could only hope it was not too bad. She wished she had been sent on the landing party, although she’d heard there had been phaser fights, and she had to admit she was not the most proficient with a weapon. But she would have known how to help the captain. Taylor was a decent field medic, but no more. And they had not needed his piloting skills on the mission, they had beamed over. She sighed. In the other room, McCoy was giving instructions to the medic. He did not seem to be getting angry, which certainly was a good sign.

“There. He should be fully conscious in a few minutes and back on his feet in a few hours. He shouldn’t go running around if at all possible, and I want him in sickbay the moment you get back. Call me if he’s making any difficulties, he’s probably the worst patient you’ll ever get.”

Then a few seconds later.

“Yeah, Jim, you’re gonna have to wait a little bit before you run around. And listen to the kid when he tells you to take it slow, doctor’s order.”

As McCoy was finishing his exchange with the captain, Scotty entered sickbay. Chapel walked back to Spock’s side to check on him, while the two officers started talking. Scotty was explaining to the doctor what they had found about the position of the landing party and a plan to get them out of there. They would need outside assistance to open a breach through the cave walls and get them out. They were trying to figure out a route that would limit how much they might have to run.

Chapel stopped listening, and looked back at Spock’s charts. He seemed to be doing far better, all his vitals were going back up, and when she looked down at the bed, she saw his eyes were open.

“Mr Spock” she exclaimed. “I’m happy to see you awake.” Then she started running her medical tricorder, examining him. “Doctor” she called “Mister Spock has regained consciousness.” She was smiling.

McCoy mumbled a vague apology to Scotty and walked briskly to his patient. Chapel handed him her tricorder, and McCoy took a look at the readings.

“So, Spock, back with us?” commented the doctor.

“Quite obviously, doctor.”

“Yeah, you are. Now, those readings seem to suggest you’r doing a lot better, but there has been quite a bit of stress on your heart and on your...Spock, what do you think you’re doing.”

The Vulcan was sitting up, pushing effortlessly aside the doctor’s hand, that was trying to keep him lying down. Knowing it was a lost cause, McCoy settled with putting a hand beside the first officer’s back to help him sit up, and get the bio-bed to move into sitting position. Spock started turning towards the side of the bed, apparently intent on actually getting up.

“Spock!” repeated the CMO.

“I assure you I am quite well doctor.”

“Like hell you are.” The doctor was obviously getting ready for a long rant, but the first officer interrupted him.

“Doctor, I have heard your conversation with Mr Scott. You will need my help for getting the lading party out. I would ask you to clear me for duty so that I could take charge of this mission. I suppose you will want to take part in it.”

Spock was now seated on the side of the bed, legs hanging down the side, visibly ready to get up. McCoy motioned Chapel to get nearer, and she did. Whether he intended her to help the Vulcan get up, to restrain him or to sedate him back to bed, was anybody’s guess. Chapel was ready for every alternative.

“Spock, I’m not gonna clear you for duty, half your organs were that close to shutting down not two hours ago. You can barely stand.”, he added. Spock had gotten up, and McCoy had a hand on his elbow, stopping him from falling back down. He tried to push him back on the bed, fairly gently given how annoyed he was, and the Vulcan just pushed him aside, and walked towards Mr Scott, ignoring the doctor completely.

“Mr Scott, can you please show me the map of your proposed rescue.”

“Aye” answered the engineer, dumbfounded, handing him his PADD

McCoy put his hand on Spock’s shoulder, intent on manhandling him back to the biobed.

“Doctor, the handle established a telepathic and empathic link the captain and myself, as well as between Lieutenant May and Ensign Deacon, although not being telepath, I don’t know if they can access it. What happened to me is just a consequence of what happened to the captain.”

“Jim wasn’t in half as bad a shape as you were, if Taylor’s reading are anything to go by, and I think they are.”

“I know.” said Spock.

McCoy brow furrowed. He had sat Spock back, and was thinking. There was something about Spock’s last statement he clearly disliked and he was going to determine what it was. Spock kept on talking.

“Mr Scott, you proposed rescue route will get the landing party through one dangerous room, and one in which our communicators will be useless again. But I do not think it can be helped. You will need me to be there to keep communications open and warn the landing party of the dangers before they occur. As you can see, including me in the landing party is the only logical course of action.”

“Doctor, I’ll let you decide.” Said Scotty. “I’ll go prepare the rest of the landing party. Can you be there in 15 minutes in the transporter room?”

McCoy nodded, but he had obviously not paid much attention to the last part of the discussion. Scotty left the room. McCoy had understood something, and his face took an unreadable expression, in which there was definitely some very calm, cold rage.

“Spock.” He said looking directly at the Vulcan who was sitting calmly on the biobed. “You said you knew the captain was not hurt as bad as you.”

“Yes.”

“And that the link you’ve got with Jim at the moment was empathic in nature.”

“Yes doctor, I do not see the purpose of repeating what I have just said.”

“Does it mean what I think it does?”

“I do not know what you are thinking, doctor?”

“Did you voluntarily take part of Jim’s injury on yourself?”

“A very sound deduction, doctor. I am surprised.”

Leaving aside the insult, McCoy continued.

“Well, did you?”

“Indeed, doctor. It was the logical course of action. I had access to immediate medical help, no matter what I think of its quality, which was not the captain’s case.”

“You could have died, you green-blooded hobgoblin.” said McCoy but there was more exhaustion than any real bite in his voice.

“It saved the captain’s life. It also means that my presence is all the more needed in the landing party, my ability to avoid injury to the captain by communicating the dangers to him, which I’m too far to do from here, will also keep me alive.”

McCoy sighed. He looked exhausted. Chapel knew looking at his face, that he would let Spock come, even if he hated it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> McCoy : "That Vulcan putting himself in harm's way everytime Jim's in danger is going to be the death of me. And, one day his own."
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter, don't hesitate to comment, and have a nice day/evening. 
> 
> Live long and prosper and take care. 
> 
> Toinette out.


	10. Chapter 10

“All right.” said Jim Kirk, closing down his communicator. “The landing party is in position, hidden from view, ready to start breaking down the rock the moment we are on the other side. We need to get going. Bulsara, you keep in constant communication with the ship. Deacon, you’ll cover him. Taylor, you look for signs of telepathic attacks on any of us, and May, you make sure we’re going the right way. Are we ready?”

“Yes, sir.” answered John, the others nodding, and Roger keeping a slightly worried eye on his tricorder. They would not be able to go very fast with the state the captain was in, although he had gotten much better in the last half-hour, but staying there was not an option. Brian’s scan had shown increasing activity from their former captors in the last couple of minutes. It was getting dangerous. Kirk motioned to Bulsara, and he contacted the landing party, letting them know they were on their way. The communication was coded and scrambled, but it was still a risk to get caught. But as much as he had tried, if Spock could give information to the captain through their newborn link, the opposite had proved impossible. 

They crawled through the caves, hiding behind walls and asperities, they only had to use their phasers one on an unsuspecting guard. The patrols were many, but their tricorder, the equivalent of which the aliens did not seem to posses, gave them a clear advantage. They knew where their enemies were before the opposite was true. 

Soon they were back along the smooth corridor of the game rooms that they had previously broken down with a phaser. They were not at the same level in the game, though, and this time, their phaser allowed them to go back in. 

Once in the room the music sounded, loud and clear this time, to Kirk and Deacon’s ears, though May only got a distorted version. Freddie and Roger heard nothing, but they felt a weird vibration in the air, and as they saw John tense up, getting in front of Brian, they could also feel a sense of danger. To them, for now, the room was empty, but they were quite sure it was full of traps. 

Kirk lead the way, Spock’s calm voice in his head warning him of the traps in the room and showing him the right way to go. The traps were many. There were flames coming from the floor, and small creatures attacking over and over again, teeth aiming at what would have been the jugular in the aliens and was around the chest in the humans. Roger and Freddie saw none of it, and they stayed as close to the captain as they could, even if they did not know if those danger they could not see would harm them or not. They were not particularly eager to try. John came just behind them, telling them of the danger he could see, and Brian closed the march, sensing vaguely what John would have told him had he been a telepath. 

They were all almost there, finally reaching the little door at the back of the room that looked very much like a maintenance shaft and would allow them to get out. But Brian had strayed from the path. In the middle of the room, there was a small object on a table, a stone-statue of a tree painted with flames, that was clearly the trophy of the game. There was something in John’s mind that had told him Brian should try and grab it. It was not from his own thoughts, and he had let it slip. 

John felt the danger menacing his friend with terrifying clarity, and without thinking, ran to him and pushed him aside. Brian fell, luckily in the direction of the door they were walking to, trophy in hand. Freddie grabbed him and got him out of the room, and he felt the excessive warmth of a flame almost burning his hand. Roger tried to run to John’s aid, but the captain held him back. He could see flames between them and the young engineer. They could not reach him, not yet. Brian and the captain watched in horror as he was attacked by a multitude of the small creature. Roger and Freddie saw him move around, fire his weapon, and they saw him bleed. 

John was being attacked by the small creatures, again and again, and whenever he tried to get away, he got burnt. He fought with every ounce of determination he had, and that was a lot, but his phaser clearly not the appropriate weapon for the job and as he lost blood, his movements were getting less and less precise, and the injuries more and more common. If it did not stop soon… But he kept on fighting. And he did get rid of many creatures, but many more seemed to keep on appearing and he knew he would not get out of there alive on his own. 

***

Leonard McCoy was looking anxiously at Spock’s face. The Vulcan’s eyes were closed, his hands brought together. He was concentrating. The CMO spared a glance to Yeoman Tamura, who was looking for signs of the landing party, while the two women from Engineering were ready to get the large phaser out of the shadow of the trees and in front of the wall of rock, to break it open. Tamura shook her head. Nothing as of yet. 

The shrill of his medical tricorder brought his attention back to the first officer. The Vulcan’s heart was beeping faster and faster, but he did not seem to be showing any sign of injury. His face gave a brief expression of anguish, that uncomfortably reminded McCoy of his captain, before going back to its usual Vulcan neutrality. The doctor saw the first officer purse his fingers tighter together, concentrating, and his lips started to move. 

“Now. Avoid the fire on your right, and grab Deacon before the next round of creatures attack. The door should be open now.”

Spock looked in the distance again for a moment, then turned to the doctor, who was busy checking him over, and said: 

“I am in good health, doctor. Your services will be needed soon, Ensign Deacon has been injured.”

Before McCoy could say anything, Spock’s eyes loosed their focus again before regaining them sharply, and even not knowing much about telepathy, Leonard could tell the link had been broken. The something of Jim that had change Spock’s demeanor in the past few hours had simply disappeared, although the doctor only really realized it then, by contrast, that it had been present at all. 

Just as Yeoman Tamura’s communicator started to chirp, Spock said “Now, crewmen”. The two women from engineering moved the large phaser-rifle into position and fired. The wall collapsed, in a mass of dust. 

As soon as it had settled down, McCoy started running. The members of the landing party were emerging from the cliff. Ensign Taylor was helping the captain run. The doctor sent him a questioning glaze, and the medic nodded and pointed behind him. The captain was alright, for now. Behind the two of them, Lieutenants May and Bulsara were carrying Ensign Deacon. May looked a bit dazed but otherwise fine, and Bulsara seemed to be in perfect health, but Deacon was most definitely not okay. 

McCoy cursed and helped the two lieutenants to get their shipmate to the relative safety of the undergrowth. The young engineers had bite and scorch mark all over his body and he was bleeding. A lot. McCoy whipped his communicator open and barked: “McCoy to Enterprise, emergency medical beam out, now.” for the second time that day. Sometimes, he hated his job.


	11. Chapter 11

It had been a few days. Uncharacteristically, Leonard McCoy was in a good mood. All his patients were doing better, and should be back to duty in no time.  The CMO was back from checking on the captain and the first officers who had both been released to quarters and they were both almost back to normal. McCoy had only had to do one visit this time. He had found both the ship’s senior officers in the captain’s quarters playing chess. He had griped at them for not following his medical orders, of course, but there had been more bark than bi t e to his rant this time. He was glad they were both feeling up to a game, and not already trying to work. Mainly because he had gotten Scotty to deactivate their computer terminals, but still. He had only insisted Spock get extra thermal clothing when he was out of his quarters, as the tiredness from his intense telepathic experience made him less proficient that usual at dealing with colder temperatures. 

The CMO was now walking back to his sickbay to check on Deacon, and most likely release him to quarters as well.  He had had to operate on him for a few hours to repair all the damage the creatures’ teeth had done to the man, and he had needed quite a few units of blood, but there had been no complications, and  he was recuperating very quickly. Leonard had to admit to a small measure of pride. What was more, the Enterprise was now on-route to a nice planet for a time of shore leave, and that contributed greatly to the surgeon’s unusual good mood. 

As he got closer to the sickbay, McCoy started hearing sounds he could not quite identify. He started walking a bit faster, frowning. When he identified the noise, however, his eyebrow shot into his hairline. It was music. And stopping to listen, he thought, quite good music at that too. He entered the sickbay and stopped there, looking at the scene before his eyes. Deacon was sat in his bed, looking slightly smug, while May was playing a soft song on a guitar and Bulsara was singing. That lieutenant had one beautiful voice, thought McCoy, who knew it for having heard the four in concert before in the rec-room but was still impressed every time. It took the physician a few more moment to notice that Ensign Taylor was using the side of the biobed as an ersatz for his drumkit.

McCoy walked in the sickbay and took a look at the reading on Deacon’s biobed. Everything seemed to be in order.

“Will you stop making noise in my sickbay.” He groused. “And Taylor, you should know better than to use a biobed as drums.”

He ran a rapid scan on Deacon that confirmed what he already knew. That man was perfectly healthy if a bit tired still.

“Get out of my sickbay, all of you, and get Deacon back to his quarters. You’re just fine, Ensign, but I’m putting you on medical leave for the next 48 hours. And no bass playing today.”

“Yes, sir” answered the young officers, looking happy to get one of their own out of sickbay. Soon, they had left the room. McCoy sat down in his office, got himself a glass of bourbon to relax, and thought with fondness that he would soon get to listen to one of those rec-room concerts again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people,  
> This is the end of this little project, hope you enjoyed it, have a wonderful day.  
> Cheers  
> Toinette


End file.
